The entire memorial service from the opening procession to the closing March Past by the RCMP Honour Guard was carried across the country on network television. Millions of Canadians from the western Arctic to eastern Newfoundland tuned in to watch with fascination as the drama of the ritual played out.
An elderly Ontario man who watched the proceedings from start to finish remarked, “It was a day when the whole country mourned.”
First came the magnificent procession — so long and large that the marchers had to muster at several locations in the valley beside the North Saskatchewan River. With precision, these various sections merged together into a massive entourage that marched up the hill on 116th Street towards the University of Alberta campus.
RCMP horses and riders lead the procession of 10,000 police officers marching to the Butterdome at the University of Alberta for the National Memorial Service in Edmonton, March 10, 2005. (Epic Photography)
Leading the way was the RCMP Regimental Pipes and Drums. Immediately behind them came the four-horse, diamond-patterned Guidon Party, which escorted the RCMP’S Guidon, their own unique standard similar to the traditional battle flags of the British Cavalry. Bearing the Colours at the head of the party was Sgt. Major Bill Stewart riding twelve-year-old Kasar, a veteran mount of the Musical Ride flown in from the Rockcliffe stables in Ottawa. Eight more RCMP horses followed the Guidon Party with their riders flying red and white pennons on their lances.
Then came four marching Mounties carrying the fallen members’ Stetsons on ceremonial pillows. Next was the one hundred-member Honour Guard comprised exclusively of comrades who had served with the four deceased. Behind them was a rolling sea of red serge — 5,000 RCMP members — marching eight abreast in columns that stretched from sidewalk to sidewalk. They were followed by thousands of uniformed police from hundreds of jurisdictions. After them came rows and rows of uniformed public service personnel. In total, the procession of 10,000 marchers measured a full kilometre in length.
Headdress bearers enter the Butterdome. L to R: Cpl. Joan Kuyp (for Cst. Peter Schiemann), Cst. Joe Sangster (Leo Johnston), Cst. Beth Hoskin (Anthony Gordon), and Cst. Jason Lapointe (Brock Myrol). Corps Sgt. Major Gene Maeda is behind them. On the horses, L to R: Sgt. Mark Godue, Sgt. Maj. Bill Stewart, S/Sgt. Gerry Sharp. (Epic Photography)
When the cortege arrived at the university’s Butterdome Pavilion, Sgt. Major Stewart rode Kasar a few strides into the cavernous facility and presented the Guidon to Sgt. Major Robert Gallup, who carried it to the stage while the capacity audience of 15,000 maintained a silent reverence. The service officially began when the Guidon was placed on the head of a ceremonial drum.
The four Mounties’ Stetsons were placed on RCMP shabracks (horse blankets) in front of their portraits on stage; the Cadet Choir from Depot Division sang “O Canada”; two ministers extended bilingual greetings to the congregation and gave the call to service.
The two-hour ceremony featured many speakers, none more eloquent than Governor General Adrienne Clarkson and Prime Minister Paul Martin.
The Queen’s representative concluded her remarks by addressing the families of the deceased: “To you who suffer, any comfort may seem cold and sympathy somehow remote. But we are here to give what consolation we can; we know that you may feel no consolation is possible, yet we offer it all the same. We extend all our sympathy, all our strength to those who will always hold constables Gordon, Johnston, Myrol, and Schiemann in a sacred place in their hearts.”
Portraits of the Fallen Four behind the ceremonial drum on the stage at the memorial service. (Epic Photography)
Paul Martin’s best words captured the sentiments of all Canadians: “To wear the uniform of the RCMP is to dedicate oneself to feats of courage and nobility of purpose. These four young men, alive in the early summer of life, rest now in the serenity of God’s embrace. They are mourned by neighbours, and by a nation. Their memory will be eternal. So, too, will be our gratitude.”
On behalf of the RCMP, Commissioner Giuliano Zaccardelli proclaimed, “Our way is now lit brighter by the shining memory of these four men who have joined the list of those who have gone before.”
Peter Schiemann’s father brought tears to many eyes when, at the end of his address, he spoke to his fallen son: “Peter, we will see you in Heaven … but we can hardly wait.”
Lee Johnston paid homage to his twin brother, Leo, referring to him as “my brother, my best friend, and the most important person in my life.”
Constable Barry Baskerville reminded the mourners that his close friend and troop mate Anthony Gordon was just twenty-eight with a wife, Kim, and son, Spencer, and a baby on the way, a child who will never know its father, except through the memories of others.
Cst. Lee Johnston spends a quiet moment before the portrait of his twin brother, Leo Johnston. (Epic Photography)
In his eulogy for Brock Myrol, Rev. Art Hundeby stated that Brock “… always set the bar high and jumped over it… [Now] God has carried Brock over the final bar.”
Interspersed among the speakers, Ian Tyson offered a powerful rendition of “Four Strong Winds”; Inuk activist and songwriter Susan Aglukark sang “Snowbird”; Aboriginal Tom Jackson accompanied himself on a Native drum singing a poignant version of “Amazing Grace.”
Then the house was hushed as a lone bugler, Cst. Owen Rusticus, played the Last Post. When he ended its haunting call, the congregation rose for a minute of silence.
There were prayers for the fallen. Then the Honour Guard exited with a March Past, and the service in Edmonton was ended.
But elsewhere on this day, there were many other memorials attended by thousands in halls and churches across the country from Vancouver to St. Johns.
At Depot Division in Regina, speaker Bob Bourget reminded the 300 in attendance, “This is indeed the spiritual home of the RCMP here at the Academy. These four cadets have graduated all within the last four years.”
In Thorold, Ontario, fifty-two of sixty members from the Hamilton Detachment attended a regional service at St. John’s Anglican Church. “There would have been more of us,” said Sgt. Mike Campobasso, “but we couldn’t abandon ship. Somebody had to stay home and mind the store.”
At a sombre service in Winnipeg, RCMP Chief Superintendent Bill Robinson told his grieving members, “They were the best we had to offer, in their youth, vibrancy, and professionalism. We will honour their memory, and we will never forget them.”
The magnitude and solemnity of the services held this day across the country were unprecedented in the history of the RCMP.
The following day, private services were held in Alberta for Leo Johnston and Anthony Gordon.
The chartered bus had transported the detachments’ personnel to the National Memorial. After the service, the entourage stayed overnight in an Edmonton hotel. Now the bus was moving on to Lac La Biche some 160 kms (ninety-six miles) to the north.
Here, at Leo Johnston’s funeral, his widow, Kelly, hugged the honour guard as her husband’s casket, covered with a Canadian flag, was carried out of the Evangelical Free Church and was loaded into a hearse.
Earlier that week, Kelly had told the media that she and Leo never even had time to view their wedding pictures nor to go on a honeymoon. “We had a beautiful life each day and we were supposed to have a long and beautiful future together.”
Now, as his hearse disappeared in the distance, so too did all of those dreams.
That same day, a service for Anthony Gordon was held at St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Red Deer, where his widow, Kim, suffered the same heart-wrenching experience as did Kelly Johnston.
Kim’s pain was compounded by the realization that she had not only lost her “gentle giant of a man,” but her two-year-old son and the child she was carrying would never know their father’s loving care.
It would be June before their second son was born. Kim named him Anthony after his fallen father.
Because of the 300-km distance between Lac La B
iche and Red Deer, it was impossible for the chartered bus entourage to get to Anthony’s funeral.
However, after an overnight in Lac La Biche, they got an early start the next morning and set out on the long ride to Brock Myrol’s funeral in Red Deer.
The service was held on Saturday, March 12, at the Crossroads Church on the outskirts of Red Deer and was attended by 2,700 mourners.
Every member of Brock’s troop thirteen from Depot Division was at the service, which was quite remarkable, since all of them had just settled into their new postings at various detachments across Canada.
Brock Myrol’s mother, Colleen, had previously lashed out at the “liberal-minded justice system” that had allowed James Roszko, a convicted child molester and known threat to police, to remain out of prison.
However, at Brock’s final service, her remarks were focused on her son. “Brock was driven as a child, driven as a teen, and in overdrive as an adult.”
In sad reflection, she said, “We were supposed to be planning a wedding now, but God changed that for his own reasons.”
As Brock’s body was loaded into the hearse, his sobbing fiancée, Anjila Steeves, kissed his casket and said goodbye.
That final kiss was the last scene in a tragic national drama that had riveted the country’s attention for over a week.
There was, however, one bit of unfinished business for the bus entourage. Many on board wanted to stop at the graveyard where Tony Gordon had been buried the day before.
Before the motor coach got to the cemetery, Jeff Whipple got off and went into a florist’s shop, where he bought a huge bunch of assorted flowers.
When the vehicle stopped near Anthony’s grave, Jeff distributed the flowers among the group. Then each person took his or her turn laying a flower on top of his freshly turned grave.
Everyone then bowed their heads and had a silent moment with their own thoughts for their fallen comrade.
“We really needed to do that,” Jeff says. “I’m very glad we did.”
Back in Mayerthorpe, Rev. Arnold Lotholz, Pastor Wendell Wiebe, Sharon Foster, the minister of the United Church, and father Ray Guimonde of St. Agnes Roman Catholic Church coordinated a memorial service for the community.
It was held in the high school gymnasium with audio feeds into several classrooms and into the nearby Elmer Elson Elementary School. Over 2,000 people attended, and there was extensive media coverage of the program. One of the most touching parts of the service featured the Grade 1 children singing and signing the song, “Love can Build a Bridge.”
Two local women, Charlotte Arthur and Colette McKillop, initiated a campaign throughout the town and the surrounding area, where red and white ribbons were distributed inscribed with the words “We Remember.” Large ribbons were distributed to businesses so they could hang them in their windows; small ones were for residents to wear on their lapels. The ribbons were free, but many people started to make voluntary donations.
Within days of the murders, there was a lot of talk around town of creating a permanent memorial to the slain Mounties. And Margaret Thibault, who had worked closely with all four constables, agreed to form a committee to pursue such a cause.
Then Haley Martin and Megan Sangster, the eleven year-old daughters of two Mayerthorpe members, came up with the idea of asking every student across Canada to donate a loonie towards this RCMP memorial. Together with Megan’s sister Laura, fourteen, and two local high school students, Katie Mattson and Katherine Lakeman, they launched Kids 4 Cops to help raise money for the cause.
Megan says, “We really loved them and missed them, so we wanted to do something.”
And as the reader will determine in chapter eleven, these young women were extremely helpful in making the idea of a memorial become a reality.
But of all the activities that were held to commemorate the loss of the four Mounties, the one that seemed to have the most immediate impact was a hockey game held in the Mayerthorpe arena.
For the past few years, Jim Martin had organized a charity hockey game between the local Mounties and a team of Mayerthorpe old-timers called the Wranglers. This year’s game was scheduled to be played on Monday, March 7, only four days after the tragedy.
Albert Schalm says, “There was some serious soul-searching and many doubts about whether or not the game should take place. But in the end, they decided to go ahead and play.
“That game was possibly the single biggest defining moment that started the healing process for our community.
“The arena was packed to maximum capacity and then some (causing mild grief to the fire commissioner).
“It was such a joy to see our detachment members plus a large contingent of past members smile, have fun, and put aside their own grief … even for just a few hours.
“It helped us residents put aside our grief also. It may have been the first time that every resident in attendance was actually rooting for the cops to win — which they did.”
Margaret Thibault agrees. “Playing the hockey game was smart. It brought the community and the police together. The community had to see that their police were still there. And the police needed to have the community surround the detachment with their support.
“It also gave the members an opportunity to skate off their anger and their high emotions.”
Jim Martin says it seemed to be good for everyone. “Most of our detachment played — me and Clayton Seguin, Al Starman, Joe Sangster, Cindie Dennis, and Julie Letal and a bunch of members from other years.”
Albert Schalm says, “Rod Phillips and Morley Scott from the Edmonton Oilers broadcast crew came in and broadcast the game over 630 CHED. The game has been a sellout every year since the tragedy.”
Immediately after the murders of the four Mounties were confirmed, the media began asking a number of pertinent questions.
1.Did James Rozsko have an accomplice, unwitting or otherwise?
2.How did James Roszko travel the 38.5 kms (twenty-three miles) from his aunt’s farm in Cherhill to his Quonset on Range Road 75?
3.At what time did James Roszko sneak into his Quonset hut?
4.From where and from whom did James Roszko get the heavy black socks he used to muffle the sound of his boots and the white sheet he used as camouflage?
These were the burning questions that were asked over and over by every media source that covered the story.
The RCMP replied that they had started an extensive investigation that would examine these questions thoroughly. And hopefully, in time, they would be able to provide answers to them.
Furthermore, they requested the public’s assistance and cooperation with all these matters.
The media buzz and the police pronouncements were of little consolation to Shawn Hennessey and Dennis Cheeseman.
They weren’t exactly sure what crime they had committed. They didn’t know the degree of their culpability or the legal extent of their complicity in Roszko’s actions. What they did know was that they had driven him from Cherhill to Range Road 75 and dropped him off close to the murder scene. And they were the last two people to see Roszko alive.
They also knew that it was just a matter of time before the RCMP would come knocking on their door.
8 | Investigation
IMMEDIATELY AFTER THE RCMP robot confirmed the four Mounties were deceased, Inspector Bob Williams from Edmonton’s “K” Division (Alberta) Major Crimes Unit came in with his “Initial Response Team.” They locked down the crime scene and secured the entire property in preparation for the investigation of the multiple murders.
Williams, fifty-seven, who was originally from Saskatchewan, was uniquely qualified to lead the Mayerthorpe investigation. He had thirty-seven years with the RCMP, during which he had served as a senior supervisor dealing with homicides, serious criminal investigations, and several high-profile cases across Canada. He also had been the commander of an ERT unit and had experience as a polygraph examiner. In 1999, Williams had taken charge of “K” Division
Major Crimes North, a unit that covers the northern section of Alberta from Millet (just south of Le Duc) to the border of the Northwest Territories.
Inspector Bob Williams. (RCMP)
At 10:35 a.m. on March 3, he was called to Chief Superintendent Rod Knecht’s office at Edmonton Headquarters. Knecht told him that something significant was occurring at Mayerthorpe. “We’re not exactly sure what it is just yet. But it sounds serious … we might have an officer down. I want you to go out there and take over as site commander.”
Anticipating a worst-case scenario, Williams immediately put together a team of eight Major Crime investigators and instructed them to proceed to Mayerthorpe with dispatch.
His eight team members included:
•Sergeant Terry Kohlhauser, forty, who had seventeen years’ experience, seven of them with “K” Division Major Crimes. Williams knew that Kohlhauser’s dedication and determination would make a great contribution to a thorough investigation.
•Constable Valerie Lahaie, a twelve-year veteran of the RCMP, an experienced file coordinator who was assigned to manage, sort, and prioritize the vast quantity of materials that would be sent in by the field investigators
•Sergeant Dennis Travanut, forty-seven, with twenty-eight years’ experience in Alberta and selected as a highly motivated and tenacious investigator
•Corporal Kevin Quail, forty, an experienced major crime investigator, assigned the role as the crime scene coordinator
•Corporal Ron Campbell, forty-seven, a focused and meticulous homicide investigator who had served all of his twenty-eight-year career in Alberta
•Sergeant Jerry Dunn, a seasoned veteran who had spent thirty-two years with the Force. His expertise was in the area of crime scene and autopsy investigations. He would oversee the autopsies of the four deceased members.
•Constable Garry Lotoski, forty-four, an experienced member of the Edmonton Homicide Unit. One of his primary responsibilities at Mayerthorpe was to serve as the exhibit person at the crime scene.
•Constable Jason Reeve, thirty-three, who had served nineteen years with the RCMP in a variety of assignments. He would assist with the interviewing and interrogation.
The Mayerthorpe Story Page 14